What Tomorrow May Bring
by Silver Blazen
Summary: Steve's never broken his promise to her. On a December visit, he finally asks her to dance. He leads, she follows.


**_What Tomorrow May Bring..._**

 ** _All characters belong to Marvel Studios and Comics_**

He felt the burning in his heart; searing torrents of blood rippling in his muscles. With a hesitant effort against resistance to enter, his hand clutched the door knob of her private room; holding back the tears and doubts of facing the past. Sighing out a labored breath, Steve entered the dimness of the occupied room, inhaling the pungent scent of disinfectant that burned in his nostrils; it was tainted smell—carrying the wafting remnants of blood, extracted bodily fluids and sterile instruments. He couldn't back down; to allow emptiness to reclaim him: not again

"Stow that fear, soldier," he whispered in an bleak undertone, squaring his jaw and traced his steady gaze involuntarily at her elevated bed just to make sure that he was in the right room. He didn't know why, he had waited so long. Everyone told him that her cancer had reached stage four—she was barely clinging to life and he hadn't been at her side, holding her aged spotted; wither hand when thralls of pain increased. He wasn't there when she needed him.

Peggy loved him with all her heart, keeping his unswerving spirit alive when he was imprisoned under the ice, and this absence was his gratitude for every sacrifice she made to preserve liberty, he never felt so defeated—ultimately broken.

As he trudge forward to her bed, his determined steps faltered, pale winter light was captured in the depth of his sky azure eyes, piercing. Steve had the brass compass tucked in a pocket of his frayed jeans; the only real thing of the past he kept close whenever he was in battle.

Preparing himself to accept the inevitable, the captain gathered enough measure of his stalwart composure; and inched to the right side of the bed, without disturbing her.

Gripping the chair with the might of his hand, it became a trail of the heart to dare; Steve intently listened to the droning, constant beeps of the EKG machines; her straining heart thumping at slow, determined pace. She was barely fighting. Coldness gripped his skin, torrents of serum paced in a rapid course in his veins, but he had to face the laden truth, no more turning away from these moments and sulking in the shadows. His blue eyes swelled with restrained tears, and yet he refused to disarm his dishearten emotions in front of her. There wasn't much time. She was reaching the end, and he couldn't save her.

Feeling confined by his regrets, Steve lingered distantly near the window, his dismal azure eyes fell onto a stack of enveloped letters tied in a ribbon, in front of pictures of her daughter and son and grandchildren: preserved visages of beautiful, cherished memories. She had a good life; married an honest and defiant soldier—Daniel—and raised her children with the same fire and gumption pulse in her veins.

Even though, it gauged his heart into splinters, Steve knew that sterling and tough SSR agent from the bullpen was her right partner in those years she had forgotten how to dance. He wanted to reconcile with her, grasp onto a second chance and finish the dream that had sparked to life when the softness of his lips melded into her searing kiss. She gave him so much, all the moral support and faith to prove to his disbelieving heart that he could do the impossible, if he gave it his all when it really counted.

Sighing out a despondent breath, he removed a wrapped box from his leather jacket, carefully placed it on the dresser. "I never intended to make you wait so long, Peggy," he murmured brokenly, bowing his head. Tears welled deep in his eyes, as he refused to dismiss the weighted pain; instead he stole a glance at rose petals scattered on the white lace cloth collection of photo albums.

For a long moment, he stared emptily at the stack of letters, trying to hold back the pulse agony, the world stopped as he neared the dresser; allowing the immovable chains of his heart to break. Time was precious now, and he refused not to waste another second, without giving her a chance to dance for one last time.

At first it was difficult to process his emotions; he'd spent too many days leaning against his motorcycle outside in the parking lot, trying to justify his reasons of returning to her after an overdue absence. It was downright painful, almost felt like a killing blow that kept pounding against his heart, bruising every layer.

"I don't expect you to forgive me, Peg," His lips pressed into a flatten line, as a grimace carved into his face, as he finally eased into the chair, and tentatively moved his hand over the embedded wrinkles of her brittle hand. His fingers brushed with a reverent stroke, calming the pulse as he felt weakness match the serum's strength.

His eyes drooped in one blink as listened to her hoarse rasps of breath ghosting out of her withered lips; upon reaction his forehead creased as he accepted what compelled him to admit a heartfelt apology to her. "You need to know that I've tried so many times to come back." There was strain evident in his masculine voice, softness cracked into urgent volume, that he couldn't swallow down. And for once, after seventy-five years: the Star-Spangled Avenger, Living Legend and defender of freedom was unable to summon the courage to fight against his unabated regrets.

Steve was losing a piece of himself everyday;giving into the constant ache of cruel despair and permitting all his failures to control the new life he had been granted, after thawing out of the icy fathoms of the Atlantic.

With a struggle to hold back his tears, he warily glanced back at the window, looking at the wall of ashen gray forming an early December sky, trees barren and the wind carried a searing chill that riddled through his rigid bones. It became a sudden reminder of how loneliness felt. With effortless, bereavement stroke of his large hand over her wrinkled arm, Steve brought a calming of warmth against the rapid increase of her irregular pulse.

 _Stay with me, Peg._

Something was jarring in amidst of the storm within him; confessed words that couldn't be recovered as he regarded the photo frame with his solemn blue eyes, affected by the truth captured in that one cherished moment.

In some ways, Steve felt like he was a stranger to her, the spark of romance they shared, the kiss on the runaway, it was vivid glimpse of what might have been if he didn't steer the controls of the Valkyrie.

He wanted to reclaim those memories, fall back in time and figure out a way to restore what had been lost to him. Oppressive weight solidified over his chest, it felt permanent. "Peg, I want you to know that you were more than I could have ever imagined to have, not just Captain America's old flame, but my best girl," he professed softly to her, the palatable edge grew raw in his voice. "If I could change moment of the past, it would be to dance with you, but I guess that's an old man's dream now..."

"Captain," a hoarse whisper came from her brittle lips. There was a slight moan that followed; Steve tried to contain his tears. Her strong and fiery voice that held so much gumption and stubbornness had faded into audible surrender to weakness; no longer full of life, just a struggle to breathe. Her arthritic hand managed to grasp his with a tremor activating in her joints. He took her hand preciously, enclosing his calloused fingers over her bent and disjointed responded to his tentative grasp, with an effortless clutch of her reserved strength. "Is that really you, my darling?" she gasped breathlessly; overwhelmed by his presence, she held his hand as her life line for one more fight—one last chance to share a moment with him.

"Yeah, my beautiful girl," Steve uttered a stifled whisper, his soft words became torn out of his chest, pain was unrelenting and consumed his veins, despite the sense of agony ripping through him, he managed to smile his brightest of her. "It's me, Peggy."

Her clouded brown eyes lit up, coughs whacked out of her damaged lungs. "You came back..." she weakly proclaimed, gripping his wrist with her gnarled fingers. Her breath seemed labored, almost forceful as she tried to reclaim what little strength fought to exist in her. A frail smile eased over her rumpled lips, tears of distant memory resided in her glazed chocolate irises, a sense of relief washed over her.

"You came back for our dance..." she sputtered with utter excitement, attempting to lift herself against the support of the pillows behind her. She could barely shift her writhed frame under the layers of sheets. It was unclear to him on how much pain she was in, since her stubborn exterior never revealed the extent of it.

There was a semblance of disdain veiling over her aging face. Her shallow breath seemed limited; the vitality that existed in her was diminished by the cancer that ate into the marrow of her bones. In his eyes, Peggy was still beautiful, pure and undeniably strong. She had been Captain America's strength—compass when he seemed lost in decision on the battlefield, and she never doubted his unyielding spirit.

Now, Steve had to become her last defense of strength, a reverent calm against the bombardment of her constant suffering. "I can't believe after all these years; you never lost the true strength that never came from those infusions." She looked up at him, finding awareness in the clarity of her fuddled vision. Her eyes roved gently as she took in his youthful visage, enough to believe that Steve wasn't an illusion created from the recesses of her deteriorating mind. "You're still the same handsome and defiant soldier that I have never forgotten. Now, you're here, my darling."

For a moment his pain seemed inescapable. Tears started to build in his eyes, as he felt torn up inside. He couldn't display the unsettled regret that had taken possession of his thoughts; he couldn't submit to failure. His blood froze, and he leaned back against the chair, trying to conceive another outlet from the sorrow cut deep into his bones. "Yeah," he finally uttered, sparing a hardened glance at the collection of pill bottles scattered in front of a flower vase. Nothing else. A sharp clenched in his chest reminded him, that somehow he would rise above the grief, though he didn't want to let her go. He wasn't sure if he was strong enough.

"Captain, why did you choose to come back here?" Peggy breathed sharply, almost grounded in her agile mind; her crackling voice held a regal pitch that always carried validation of her faith in him. Still, there was the barest hint of a broken heart evident in her raspy words. Her brown eyes had lost their focus; he was nearly a flicker of the purest light that kept her brave enough to face tomorrow. "There's so much that needs to get done and you're avoiding new chances to embrace your victory."

Steve dipped his head, feeling utterly ashamed, and defeated. A taut grimace pulled over his full lips, revealing unbidden pain that he wanted to keep concealed from her. With an effort to avoid processing all his grief, he gave her an assuring smile, and caresses her paper thinned fingers with reverent touch to subdue her discomfort.

He dared a glance at the oxygen tanks prompt against the dresser. Objects that he had absently stare on during his arrival; they didn't provide him a distraction. Instead a daunting revelation that she wasn't capable to fight on her own... "You should get some rest," he advised calmly, feeling displaced in his ensnaring thoughts. "you need to get strong for our dance tomorrow." He swallowed hard, giving her a sense of hope. His light azure eyes steadied on her lax features. "Remember, my best girl?"

Stubbornly, Peggy dismissed his orders, evading them entirely. "Always the good soldier I see," she returned, a frail smile tugged on her chalky lips. "You're not being your true self, Steve. I feel that something is holding you back." He didn't tear his gaze away from her in those moments when he felt a crushing weight solidify over his chest, tenseness of his muscles made him languish in the chair. He shifted his weight uncomfortably against the plastic.

Upon recognizing his apprehension, Peggy cocked a thinning eyebrow up. It was then, she lifted her shaky hand to stroke over his broaden jaw. She stared up at him, leveled with her dark eyes holding a flicker of perspective fire. She knew him to well."What is it, Captain?"

He felt dead inside. "I'm not sure that I can carry out another mission," Steve answered, in a strained whisper, holding her hand secured in his clutch. "It used to be easy, but now, it feels like I've dragged myself in a war that can't be won...» He paused momentarily to recollect all the memories that transpired, with a deep breath, he drew up the courage to look into her eyes again. "...and I can't find home again, Peg," he admitted lowly, using measured control to hold back the sting of his tears.

Every moment he spent with her, give him a chance to believe in himself again, not just the enhancements of the serum's components; but his true strength that resided in his burdened, aching heart. After Steve listened to a weak, ragged cough emit from her chapped lips, and he realized there wasn't enough time to recreate memories that had been stolen from them. He'd lost his chance, seventy five years in the ice.

Muscles tensed in his chest, and his heart seemed to pump restlessly. And he became overpowered with a connection of regret, and the weighted burdens of a choice that steered him away from her.

Whether he refused to accept it, he was fading out of her focus. Time wasn't limitless, and he had to accept the truth that he couldn't save her. After enduring all his battles in the spangled uniform, all the sacrifices he made for liberty and freedom; Steve came to realize that world around him was evolving, all the people he loved in the past, would become ghosts that he couldn't chase after.

Peggy had always been the fire in his heart, that couldn't be doused. In the transparency of his infecting emotions, Steve was drawn back to the tumultuous moment when he stared into dispirited, menacing blue eyes that held only a dimming illusion of Bucky Barnes. He couldn't escape from the availing nightmares; his thoughts were plagued with demented vestiges of his best friend's butchered soul.

With a heavy, disheartened sigh, Steve gathered clarity back in his words. It felt strange to admit that he was lost. "I'm not even sure where home is..."

Peggy closed her eyes, rasping out another labored cough. "Home is where you chose to station yourself, Steve. As a soldier you fought for it every day; keeping Brooklyn safe with your shield, but the question is my darling, where do you feel most grand of your happiness?"

There was no simple answer. He trained his somber gaze on collection of service metals and colored sashes with the symbol of S.H.I.E.L.D imprinted on the material, those monumental remnants of her life were scattered behind the photographs of her family, and old friends that had passed years before he emerged from the icy depths of the Atlantic.

He was staring at a display of her life, and he had only been a part of it for a glimpse that would remain in the past. It was a struggle to convince himself that he felt broken. His thoughts raced through the forefront of his mind; searching for something infinitely, a core truth for an expected confession. "I'm don't know what makes me happy, a good friend of mine and fellow soldier asked me the same question a short while back, and I couldn't give him a honest answer."

"Sometimes it takes a lifetime to find it, Steve," Peggy whispered in a harsh soothe, her dark eyes returned back onto his chiseled, boyish face."...or even a single moment."

He couldn't resist smiling to himself, she made his spirit lift. It had been so long since he could embrace this moment with her, to indulge into the blazon malaise of granted happiness that began to energize within him.

Pain seemed to dissolve, as hope returned to fractured pieces of his heart. If this was to be their final time together, he would make it memorable for both of them. He had one more chance to offer up his promise to her."Peggy Carter," he addressed in a firm tone, guiding her limp hand to his lips. He lowered his head, and dropped a tentative kiss over the ridges of her ashen knuckles, warming the cold veins with a heated caress of his breath."There's something I wanna to ask you?"

Her bejeweled eyes lit up with genuine curiosity and the tightness in her voice resumed a wheezed pant of breath, as tears glided down her sullen cheeks. It became utterly hard for her to breathe, and give him a measure assurance that he didn't need to give her anything in return.

"Oh, Steve...I'm already happy seeing you alive... Don't you go blaming yourself for what happened to us?" She managed to place his large hand over her chest, giving him what ounce of support he needed to carry on the fight without her presence. Heaviness grew evident in her delaying words. "You saved the world. I have honored that greatly all these years, never once considered holding regret to your choice."

Gravity faltered around him, uncertainty obstructed his mind as he slowed to ponder for a moment. It felt like the world was tilting, as he became uncertain on what road to follow, no path was easy to take; and feeling warranted to his pledge grounded him with so many burdens that he couldn't ease them off with his own fight.

Admitting, that he couldn't recover from the wounds of his past, didn't grant him the release to allow his prevailing memories to fade. "Sometimes I just want to go back and start over again. I know you want me to keep on picking myself up and get back in the game, score a home victory, but I can't do it, not when things have become so damaged, and can't be fixed."

His gaze fell onto the photographs, intently on the one with her wearing the dark brown suit with the emblem of the SSR labeled on her shoulder. "I guess what I'm tryin' to say is that I miss the old days, Peg."

"We can't go back, Steve. We can only move forward and hope for the best."

He nodded slightly, listening to the depth of her voice. "I know. It's just not the same anymore. Really not the same. Buck's missing and you're..." He slanted his lips into a faint smile, holding onto her hand with a pulse of strength. "...still my beautiful girl. Who never got her chance to dance? I fail like a failed you, Peggy, so many times when I should've found a way to carry out that promise. You've always been the girl who was worth fighting for. The only partner who kept me standing. If it hadn't been for you staying by my side, I don't think I would've been strong enough to fight the Red Skull...To make the choice that I did that day..."

Peggy folded her lips into a weary smile. "It wasn't me who gave you that strength, Captain" she declared in a wispy voice, and stared deeply into his sincere azure eyes. "You made the choice of carrying on the mission; it was your strong heart that pushed you to finish it."

Steve pulled out the tarnished, copper compass, it seemed like relic of their past, that had never broke under the ice. To him, it served as a magnetic pull that would always lead him back to her. Something toiled inside of him, a miserable ache that couldn't be doused by the serum. In truth, Steve was still in love with Peggy. Time would never change that unbreakable devotion, even though her life would depart from the earth in the coming months, she would always exist in the recesses of his preserved memories and falling tears. "You were there with me. When the water rushed in, all I heard was your voice calling me back home..."

Glimmers of painful tears streamed down her weathered face. "Please don't mention that, Steve," she struggled to maintain a pant of breath, fighting against the untender pain of her diminished body.

There was evidence of sorrow tracing over her ashen skin, and Steve knew that he'd said too much, that it wasn't the right time to bring up those broken memories. She regained her voice. "I couldn't bear to feel that pain again, not when I though who you weren't coming back, but you never really did come back, did you?"

"I'm right here where I need to be," Steve said, in an earnest tone, but his heart felt abroad from the knots of denial. He couldn't erase every pulse of agony that he fought when his gaze found hers. Gently, he threaded his fingers through her ratty strands of silver, calming her down. He didn't know what else to say; he didn't want to leave unresolved grief between them. The temperature of her body was cold under his warmth, and realization soon struck him with another lance in the chest. He couldn't lose her. Not his Peggy...His love.

"Boy, how much I've missed you, Peg," he confessed, betraying the tender ease in his baritone. Peggy attempted to lift her head off the pillow, her silver tresses of hair draped over her bony shoulders, as she looked at him, with unmeasured love glinting in her eyes. No words were spoken, Steve didn't rise from the chair, and he instinctively folded a draped sheet neatly over her chest while giving her a benevolent glance, refusing to expose the weight of his regrets. His grim demeanor changed in the instant he pulled out the Starkphone from his jacket. A quirk of tender smile merged over his full lips. "You know I've still haven't learned how to dance."

"It's easy...You just need a partner." Peggy told him, her speech held a slur as she released breath.

The warm memory of their first conversation was always a source of happiness for Steve to draw on; a timid beginning where he first began to step away from the shy and awkward guy who was too nervous to speak to a beautiful woman. Peggy had brought many firsts into his life, he would always love and appreciate her for that. Time and circumstance had taken away a lifetime for them to share together, he wouldn't let it take away one last treasured moment between them. Taking her hand into his, Steve smiled that warm genuine smile, pure in its intent and devotion in its promise.

"Peggy Carter…" he began with a modest ease, but firm in his certainty, "may I have this dance?" The words he wanted to say, for over seventy-years, finally rolled off the tip of his tongue—strength and fulfillment encompassed him and with it, an immense joy that had been denied for so long, its indication only evident by the watery teardrop that escaped his glistening azure orbs. He felt his breath restrain itself in his lungs, his racing heart every bit as nervous and rampant as if nothing had changed; as if he was still that same timid little guy who had finally worked up the courage to ask out the girl of his dreams.

Steve watched her cracked lips stretch up into a broad joyous smile—wrinkled in its form, but radiant and so unmistakably familiar it was purely and simply: Peggy—his Peggy. His heart soared as he watched her nod with approval, "you may, Captain."

He barely felt his pulse. It was surreal and abiding to conceive as her response deafened into echo. At first, his expression seemed dormant, his lips curved into a quirky smirk; but no words came out, and he felt the rush of adrenaline coursing in his veins, rapid and thrumming. A fever seared in his chest. It became unsettling to focus on the next gesture of starting their long-awaited dance.

With the gentle care of something unthinkable by a man of his size and strength, Steve's large hands ever so gently helped the frail and old woman that was his first love, up off the pillows into a sitting position. She held enough of her own strength to make the task easy for him. He wasn't the last bit surprised-she was always strong even in frailty. Wordlessly, he watched with amicable patience as she secured her oxygen to a small portable tank at her bed side before taking his waiting hand. With a nod of consent, Steve helped her rise off the bed, her balance shook as her unused limbs had lay dormant for a long period of time that any longer they may have atrophied. He felt her shake in his arms as he held her steady, waiting for her to find her balance and stand on her own two feet.

In a tentative, graceful reach of her trembling hand, Peggy touched his lips, with a subtle caress of her disjointed finger, her wrinkled skin glided over the full arch of his mouth, relishing the youth and wet heat as she felt a pulse merge with hers. She was sated, fully aware of the passing moments of contentment; she couldn't help but offer him a beautiful smile at the restored connection that awoke between them. The fierce storm in his azure eyes translated so much, that obstructive tears of grief managed slope down her sullen in features. "We could've had a lifetime of this..."

Steve felt his throat constrict and swallow of its own volition. The effort he'd made to erect an unfettered and content surface threatened to shatter. True as she said, they could have had a lifetime of happiness together had fate decided it was meant to be, that they would have fought and love together as one in the decades since their first meeting. But rather than allow the remorse of their lost time together to disrupt their present, Steve found the strength to carry onward with a bittersweet smile across his dimpled features. "We have now, Peggy..." he whispered lovingly, taking her hand into hers and gently threading his large youthful fingers between her aged thin ones, "let the now be the lifetime that we always wanted..." he gently guided her a few steps from the bed, far enough for her oxygen tube to allow her mobility.

She stood stronger now on her own two feet, snuggled confined in a pair of warm slippers that made her feel light as a feather. She easily sank into his embrace-like missing pieces to a puzzle finally united-they felt whole and complete.

The world bleed away into a haze of endless light, as Peggy slowly drifted in another time with him, a time that was meant to become shared by two dance partners, who finally gotten a chance to embraced their promise. Sighing, deeply, she rested her head affectionately on his shoulder, feeling loved by him all over again. As he secured his arm idly over her waist she was cradled close to the broad expanse of his chest; muscles flexed as she weak breath ghosted over his shirt. Tears slipped from her blurring eyes. "Thank you, Steve, for giving me this dance," she murmured, peacefully.

Steve couldn't describe the feeling in simple words-but it felt as if his world had shifted into a plane where time held no boundaries and no consequence. The past, present and future all aligned and into one and at the center of the world, there was only himself and Peggy with only each other and the ambiance of a vibrant and lively dance hall where the music was classy and soulful, and it carries them both on its waves as they fell into slow steps.

"Anything for my, girl," he whispered into her hair, it smelled of roses just as he remembered it. Pulling away from her gently to gaze upon her, he showed neither reaction nor surprise to see her as young and full of life as he remembered her. Her richly dark colored orbs were lidded and adoring, her skin ethereal and flawless, and her red smile as angelic and melting.

"Tell me, Captain," she intoned, as he gracefully reeled her back. "Did you finally get everything that you wanted?"

Steve was silent at first, consuming memories of Bucky's mechanical and ruthless eyes scraped against his wrenched heart as jagged pieces. His blue eyes gained a distant glint as he stared into her loving gaze. He didn't want to ruin the moment, end their dance, not when Peggy needed him to lead her for one final time. Letting a loose breath escape from his lips, he tilted his head down, and gripped her arm more reverent and tender than before; he locked her shivering frame against his body, his forehead rested against her clammy skin. A fray of hope was all he felt. _I'm home._ _"_ Well, I'm not wearing spangled tights," he joked, lightly.

Peggy chuckled a little with a rasp, and nestled her cheek against his chest, listening to the steady pound of his mended heart. She didn't think about the past. She focused on the moment and dreamed about how she was going to live for tomorrow.

For Steve, tomorrow would be another confrontation with the unknown—in pursuing the ghosts of his past and righting the wrongs he couldn't correct before. But today—today was about rediscovery, about fulfilling a lifelong dream, about allowing the remorse of what could have been to fade away, and most of all: replacing the grimness of a tragic memory with a brighter one that would live with him until his dying day. This would be a day he would never forget, he vowed—to himself, and to Peggy.

Her flesh once clammy and cold was now a warm mask of comfort. He could feel her small form relaxed against torso, her dainty arms wrapped around his waist as his own held her close to him, as they gently swayed to the classic soft tune playing from his Starkphone.

A soft sigh of contentment emitted from her, filling him with an utter peace and calm that he had not felt in so long. He knew, with all his heart, she was as happy as he was, and that no matter what tomorrow would bring, nothing would diminish the joy they felt at sharing this moment together… one last time.

Gently pulling his head back so he could look down at her, he felt nearly overwhelmed by the joy and unspoken adoration shining in her glistening orbs, their depth tugging at the strings of his heart. Time could never take their beauty away. The brightness of her own elation reflected in his teary eyes that steadily set their focus on her lips. _One last time…_ Allowing his heart to guide him, Steve slowly shuttered his lids and leaned down to touch her lips with his own—it was chaste in its form, but it was promising enough for him convey his love for her that would never die, and as he felt her gently respond to him in kind, he knew she was telling him just the same.

 _This is home._

 _ **{The End}**_

 _ **Thanks for reading.**_


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